Ingrid Parker - Rashomon Gate – A Mystery of Ancient Japan

Short and dapper, Okura stepped in and closed the door. In spite of the threatening rain, he was dressed in a court costume of heavy green silk and his formal hat was tied firmly under the weak chin. In one hand he carried a lantern.

"You should really keep that door closed against the storm," he said in his high voice, peering around the plain room. "I see you poor teaching fellows must be hard at it till all hours," he added genially, echoing Ishikawa.

Akitada nodded. "As you say." He wondered what he should do, now that Kobe and his men were long gone. Well, something would occur to him. "Please take a seat. I am glad you decided to accept my invitation."

His guest made no move towards the cushion, but walked past Akitada and into the dark main hall. "Hmm," he said, holding up his lantern and looking about him, "It's a pleasure to visit the old classrooms again. You don't mind?" Without waiting for Akitada's answer, he walked away towards the other rooms.

Akitada got up and followed him. The small foppish figure tripped along in such a childlike manner that he could not work up any fear of the man. He had handled the much larger Ishikawa. Okura was frail by comparison and a coward to boot. The real difficulty was in getting him to confess to Kobe.

Okura's lantern bobbed along ahead of him, its yellow glow disappearing into one room after another, then shining out on dark verandas circling the outside of the hall. He was making sure they were alone.

In due time, he strolled back, saying, "Yes, it brings back memories, though it looks even shabbier than I remembered. I would have asked you to my own office instead, but I expect to move to larger quarters soon." He preened a little, brushing a finger over his tiny mustache. "Perhaps you have heard the rumors? I am marrying into one of the most powerful families in the realm. The Otomos' mansion is in Sanjo ward, and I shall reside there in the future. The adoption proceedings are almost completed and will result, naturally, in promotions and a higher rank."

"My congratulations," remarked Akitada dryly.

"Thank you. The fact is that you have caught me at a good moment. A month later and my rank would not allow us to meet on this familiar footing."

They returned to Akitada's room, where Okura blew out the light in his lantern and minced to the cushion, seating himself and arranging his figured silk robe carefully around him. "Now, what is all this nonsense about Hirata having visited me to discuss Oe's death?"

Akitada brought out the journal and opened it to the last page. He passed it to Okura and went to sit down himself. "I have been puzzled by this entry. Perhaps you would like to explain?"

Okura read and sighed. Putting the journal into his sleeve, he rose. "My dear fellow," he said silkily. "Surely you don't think I will stand still for more blackmail? No, no! You must not even think it. I paid dearly for first place. Oe struck a very sharp bargain, but I paid off. Is it my fault that the greedy fellow would not share and could not handle that radical, Ishikawa? What a slimy bunch all of you professors are."

"I am afraid you must return the journal. It is evidence against you in Oe's murder."

Okura raised thin brows to stare down at Akitada. "Don't be silly! This is nothing. It does not mention names. To be sure, if one were curious, one might guess. But the whole thing is so easily explained away as a simple matter of rewarding one's favorite professor. And who would dare question me now on such charges?"

"You have committed two murders, and there would have been three if Nishioka's rats had not got to the poisoned walnuts first. Not even your exalted new relatives can get you out of those charges."

Okura's bland face became a closed mask. His head cocked sideways, he regarded the seated Akitada for a moment. Then he returned to his cushion and sat down. "You know," he said in an almost conversational tone, "I have always had a good deal of admiration for you. When you came here and asked questions, I confess, you made me uneasy. With good reason, as it turned out, for Oe panicked. I gather you know about the examination?"

Akitada nodded.

"Ah. That was clever of you. It is really too bad that we find ourselves on opposite sides in this matter. I could have used you."

Akitada said nothing.

"But perhaps our differences may be overcome? I dare say you have considered your position and what a man like myself can do for you? Oe practically twisted my arm to let him help me cheat. His problem was that he got greedy. He expected that I was good for a fat income for life. When I refused to pay more, he had the gall to threaten me publicly by reading that insulting poem at the contest in the Divine Spring Garden. I was outraged!"

"So you followed him and killed him?"

"That was not precisely my first intention. One does not like to dirty one's hands in person. As soon as possible after he left, I went to our usual meeting place, expecting him to be waiting for me. You can imagine my surprise when I found him tied to the statue of Confucius and too drunk to care. All I had to do was put him out of his misery." Okura's hand crept to his sash. He chuckled at the memory. "Oh, yes. It was me. No harm admitting it here just between the two of us. It was truly amusing how the police suspected all of you fellows and Ishikawa, when I was the one. And you must admit I did the university a service. Where would the country be with crooked professors like him? Think of the scandal I saved you all from."

"Did you act for the same altruistic reasons when you set fire to Hirata's study?" Akitada asked, trying to keep his anger from showing.

"What else? Oh, Hirata was not as open about it as Oe had been. He dithered on and on about his conscience bothering him and about how he wanted to make things right for the parents of the fellow who killed himself. He proposed that I resign my first place so it could be awarded posthumously to the other student. Now I ask you: what kind of a fool did he think me? What good is first place to a dead man? No money goes with it, no rank, no position. No, no! I saw right through that. He would have accepted a hefty sum from me, pretending, of course, that he would pay it to the parents. Hah! I fobbed him off, told him to wait till I had secured my rank, and then I'd resign." Okura giggled at the thought, and Akitada suddenly wondered if he was quite sane.

Suppressing his rising horror, he asked, "But you went that night and set the fire?"

"That was a really clever move. All the talk about lack of rain and the danger of fires gave me the idea. I went that very night, carrying a small flask of lamp oil with me. The gate was only latched. Hirata has always been a trusting fool. I walked in and made my way to his study. Most of us were invited to his house when we were students. And there he was, fast asleep, sitting amongst his books and papers. And not a servant in sight! I am constantly amazed at the squalid lives you professors lead in private. No wonder you sink to blackmail. Anyway, Ipoured the oil over the veranda just outside his door and used my candle to light it. It blazed up magnificently and almost instantly caught the straw mats on fire, and then the papers joined the merry blaze. He woke, of course. Briefly." Okura rubbed his pudgy hands together and smiled. "Houses burn down all the time. No one will ever connect me with that."

Akitada shuddered. He had no words, but his eyes never left Okura's face and he saw that the horrible smirk of satisfaction gave place to a slight frown.

"I was not so clever with Nishioka, it seems. I wondered about that when there was no news. So the nosy little weasel escaped? Tsk, tsk!" Okura grimaced. "Every one of us knew of Nishioka's weakness for walnuts. He used to munch them while he was teaching. Disgusting! Well, never mind! They'll blame it on the walnut vendor."